


Nothing More

by LasbelinaronEva



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark Magic, Drama & Romance, Fantasy, Magic, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LasbelinaronEva/pseuds/LasbelinaronEva
Summary: This is the tentative first chapter of a book I am attempting to write, tentatively called "Nothing More". It is entirely possible as time goes on, the position of the information presented in this chapter will change. This chapter will likely no doubt confuse you, as I wrote the first chapter as a means of getting you interested in finding out more of the lore or reasoning why such and such character did this or said that. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and if you see any glaring problems I would really appreciate you telling me, as I am really out of the loop of writing. Also, I have spent virtually no time on AO3 prior to this, so if I look like I don't know what the heck I'm doing, it's because I don't know what the heck I am doing. Bear with me :P
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Out of all the things Laurentia knew, she was most sure that this was the final time she would feel as if she were nothing. What was closer to the truth, however, was that it would be the second to last time.  
Laurentia and her clan stood around a bonfire in anticipation of the dawn. The flames reflected in their eyes mirrored the burning rage in their hearts. Soon, there would be no going back on the plans they made as they suffered in the shadows. Laurentia left the circle to elevate herself on a nearby rock. Her elven comrades kept their eyes on her in reverence.  
“Elvenkind of Saturus,” she began. “My people. Long have we suffered under the oppressive thumbs of humans. They have slaughtered our children, silenced our voices, and watched as we helplessly starved!”  
The crowd began to vocalize, expressing agreement and anger.  
“They offered us aid in the form of slavery. Someone, pray tell me how making us tend to their posteriors and primal desires benefits us. We should not live in a world where our only choices are to lose our autonomy or die. We are a strong, beautiful people. Has any of what I said been untrue?”  
There was no response but the shaking of heads.  
“Good. For nigh a century we have stood idly by while all of these atrocities have been committed against us by the men we were supposed to recognize as king. A true king should not serve only himself. Let us all see to it that this institution of suffering is flipped on its head.”  
Words of acknowledgement came from the circle.  
“I cannot lie to you. I am unsure how many of us will make it through this alive. I urge you all to take heart, but I must offer that anyone who does not have the courage to muster, he may retreat back from whence he came. But at first light of day, there will be no turning back, and whoever falters will be subject to my personal wrath.”  
The crowd fell silent, some looking downwards in submission.  
“Any loose ends you all may have, tie them now in the time you have. The fight may be long, but when, not if, we prevail, we will raise our banner high. If they will not right their wrongs, we will just have to do it ourselves!” Laurentia jumped off the rock that elevated her and began to emulate a wolf’s howl.  
The curly-haired elf that had been standing closest to Laurentia approached her and took her hand, joining her in the howl. Others followed suit, until every member of Laurentia’s small army was howling into the night. The song was angry, defiant, and mournful as it filled the crisp autumn air. The sound was so real, nearby creatures called out, until at last it died down.  
As the others returned to stand by the flames and speak in hushed tones, the curly-haired elf turned to Laurentia, still holding her hand tightly. Softly, he asked, “come walk with me?”  
The pair walked deep into the forest until finally stopping at a clearing. The moon hung proudly overhead, casting a soft light on their faces. The male elf suddenly pulled Laurentia close and smiled deeply. “My soon-to-be Queen. Laurentia.”  
“My soon-to-be King. Atticus.”  
Atticus frowned. “This victory will be yours, my love. Not mine.”  
Laurentia found traces of fear in Atticus’s grey eyes. “It will be ours,” she corrected firmly.  
Atticus chuckled softly. “If someone had told me that skittish, scarred elf woman I met all those years ago would lead our people into battle, I would have laughed openly in their faces.”  
“I was not too harsh with them, was I? I fear I was…”  
“Coddling is what kept us in our situation. Change does not come by gentle nudges. It comes from pushing. If they do not understand that now, they will in due time.”  
Laurentia twirled the curls framing Atticus’s face lovingly. In a rush of passion, she grabbed him in an embrace and locked her lips onto his. Their mouths exchanged silent vows, until suddenly Atticus pulled away, that fear flashing in his eyes again.  
“What is wrong?”  
Atticus shook his head, “I wish not to trouble your mind. Let us get back to the others.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
As twilight crept over the sky, Laurentia rose from the ground. “It is time to march on the city,” she called.  
In precise organization, the clan of elves rose and began following Laurentia out of the forest and into the outskirts of the city. Just before the city gates, Laurentia halted and turned towards her army.  
“Before we set into motion events that cannot be undone, there are a few things I must say. We march as one until we reach the palace. Once we reach the grounds, you all know your roles. Free servants, but anyone else you are free to annihilate. The king, however, is all mine. Are we clear?”  
“Yes, our queen,” was the resounding reply.  
Laurentia nodded and turned towards the gates once more. She took a deep breath and a moment to watch the red sky swell. She lifted her arms and, not unlike a grand conductor, instructed the sky to turn a putrid green. Plague and pestilence swirled in the air as she and her soldiers made their way through the city. The screams of the unaware echoed as Laurentia ignored them. In the main square, a human threw himself at her feet.  
“Please, have mercy on us!”  
Laurentia knelt down to be level with the stranger. “If you do not get out of our way by the time I count to three, I will curdle every last drop of blood in your pathetic body.”  
The stranger clenched his fist. “I know what you’re here for, witch. You are here to overtake the palace. You cannot have it! It belongs to King Re--”  
But before he could finish, he began choking and clutching at his throat. Laurentia had unleashed disease magic into his body and it was suffocating him. His lifeless body crumpled onto the stone floor.  
“No one else in the commons shall be killed if you stay out of our way. Get yourselves inside and the plague will pass over you,” Laurentia instructed loudly to the brave souls who had gathered to witness the chaos. She kicked the stranger to the side and continued to the palace.  
Guards stood spaced evenly on the steps leading up to the stone pillars that held the palace walls. Wordlessly, Laurentia signaled the warriors of the clan to distract the guards. Their swords clashed and sparks flew, but still Laurentia pushed onward.  
Once inside the palace walls, the remaining mages split up and dispersed into the building’s many compartments. Laurentia tore through the rooms in search of her prey, all the while the swarms of parasites she had conjured hummed loudly and rent her enemies open with a swipe of her hand.  
“Where is the king?” She demanded a noble she found cowering in the corner.  
“P-probably in the lower l-level!” He stuttered, terrified. “P-please, let me go!”  
“My love,” a voice called from behind her.  
Laurentia turned to meet Atticus’s wide eyes. The fear she had seen in them earlier that morning was full-fledged now. She wanted to crumble under the weight of his stare, but she stood strong.  
“Go,” she commanded the noble, while maintaining bitter eye contact with her lover.  
The noble scrambled out of the room as Atticus approached Laurentia cautiously. “First the innocent in the square and now another almost died. Was ‘annihilate’ really a necessary order?”  
Laurentia furrowed her brow. “I thought you said change only happens through pushing!”  
“I did not mean push off a cliff.”  
“Question me again and it is you I will be commanding to ‘go’.”  
Silence fell between the two. It was one thing to be assertive, but it was another thing to be needlessly cruel. But Atticus knew better than to question further.  
“Stay on this level and free the remaining slaves. I must retrieve the king on my own,” Laurentia said.  
Atticus nodded softly, and left the room.  
Laurentia reached the lower level and began searching the rooms for the king. She walked past holding cells, presumably for those who committed crimes directly related to the palace. Wondering if any held elves that she might need to release, she approached the cells. All were empty, save for one containing an Accipiter, the humanoid hawk-like race that lived among the humans in the capital city. Their race was responsible for running the mandatore, the collection of officials in charge of controlling individuals who would refuse to control their magic. To most of the elves and races living outside the major cities, the Accipiter were regarded extremely negatively. Laurentia wondered if she should just cut the creature down where he stood.  
“I know what you are here for. He is further into this dungeon,” the stranger said weakly.  
As Laurentia examined the creature, she discovered that his wings had been crudely removed. A pool of blood stained the ground beneath him. What would normally be yellow eyes shiny and full of pride, were dull and full of despair. Had Laurentia not been on such a passionate mission, she would have felt sorrow for the creature who pitifully lay on the ground. She briefly considered freeing him, before realizing there must be some terrible reason he was in there in the first place.  
“I hope you understand that you are too dangerous to help,” Laurentia said, trying to convince herself it was acceptable to leave him in such a state.  
“I can say the same of you.”  
Offended, Laurentia continued further into the dungeon, until she reached a room she had desperately tried to forget.  
“I knew you were coming for me. I knew it from the color of the sky.”  
“Remus. How cowardly of you to hide in the dungeon.”  
“I was hoping we might talk.”  
“What is there to talk about?” She snarled bitterly, approaching him with clenched fists.  
“Woah, there,” Remus coaxed, instinctually backing up.  
“Any ‘talking’ you wish to do, I suggest doing it now before I lose my temper.”  
Too late is what the king wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. “I wanted to apologize.”  
Laurentia’s surprise almost knocked her rage off-balance. Was he just saying that to bargain for his life? “For what?”  
“For everything.”  
“That is a lot of things. I need specifics.”  
“For betraying your trust...for using you. All of it.”  
“What about refusing to help me and my clan? I came to you, begging for your aid so that my people did not starve, and what did you do? Turned me away. It is by my hand and my hand alone my people survived that winter.”  
She had come to the palace years ago seeking aid. Remus, who had barely become king himself, agreed to take care of her in exchange for her servitude. What developed between the two could have hardly been called friendship. How could a healthy relationship thrive in a dynamic of inequity? Years later, after being freed from servitude, Laurentia’s clan was suffering from the famine most winters brought. Desperate, she asked Remus to help.  
“I…” he began, then stopped. “It wasn’t personal.”  
“Oh? I thought it was pretty personal, considering during my time here I became a vessel for your secrets, among other things.”  
“After Regina...I became careless.”  
“Do not speak that name to me!” Laurentia stormed across the room to distance herself from him..  
“Laurentia,” he began. “I loved her so much.”  
“So did I!” Her voice boomed across the chamber.  
“Wait…”  
“Not in the same way you did,” she corrected. “But yes. I loved her too. She was my dearest friend and what did you do? You broke her heart and cast her out.”  
“You don’t understand, I--”  
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly,” she said, approaching Remus once more. “You could not bear the thought of anyone knowing about your love affairs with non-humans, much less a dwarf. So you sent her away.”  
“No, she left me,” he stuttered.  
“Did you know she was with child?”  
Now it was Remus’s turn for surprise to knock him off balance.  
“Ah, that does not surprise me. You never consider the consequences of your putrid actions.” Laurentia approached Remus and forcefully pushed him against the wall, wrapping her fingers around his neck and squeezing.  
He began to struggle and grasp at her hand, but realized that she had already begun to pump her disease magic into his system. “You...you do not have to do this! Take the crown, take the palace, take it all. I do not want it, I have not wanted it for years!”  
“I want my dignity back. I want _our_ dignity back,” she hissed, tightening her grip. “That is something only your death can bring. Goodbye, Remus.”  
Laurentia took a small amount of pleasure in watching the disease course through his body. His face turned an ashy purple as he omitted a few final gurgles. As he fell to the ground, lifeless, Laurentia was struck with a wave of fatigue. Though she did not regret what she had done that day, the energy required for such destruction momentarily took a toll on her. She, too, slumped to the ground.  
After catching her breath, Laurentia reached over and took the gilded wreath that had once sat atop a tyrant’s head. As she crowned herself, an overwhelming sense of power overtook her, and she reveled in it. The best was yet to come, or, so she thought. Her celebration was interrupted by the sound of rushing feet behind her. She whipped around to meet her interrupter.  
“Laurentia!” The voice cried, but upon seeing her, immediately fell to her feet. “My queen Laurentia…”  
“Yes? What is it?”  
“It is your husband, please come quickly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with another chapter! This one is a little more lore-heavy and a lot less drama-heavy, but there is still some juicy mystery in it. Oh gosh, don't let me describe any of my writing as juicy ever again. Thank you all for your support for my first chapter! As always, if there are any glaring errors please do not hesitate to let me know. I am eager for y'all to read this!

“Step forward and state your name, human.”

Cecilia stepped forward to face the council that sat in judgement before her. Her audience consisted of one representative of each of the races living in Saturus: a dwarf, an elf, an Accipiter, a human, and a Tarandrus. This council was considered the most important of the mandatore, as it was regarded as containing the greatest experts in each race’s magic, and therefore vital in discerning skill and risk in young citizens. 

“I am Cecilia Silva.”

“Age and parentage?”

“I am 22, your honors, and...I do not know my true lineage. I was raised and live with the Silvas of the Tarandrus outside the capital.”

There were hurried whispers among the council.

“Is she not too old to be having a hearing?”

“How are we to know what skills she may possess if we cannot look into the records of her parents?”

“I thought we closed this case years ago.”

The council carried on like this for a few minutes more. This was a special case indeed. Normally, after a young person was brought to the council, his/her parents’ records were brought up as a guideline for what kind of magic the subject could have possessed. The member of the council most familiar with the relevant type of magic would then take the lead on the investigation. Persons who were found to have magical talent had two choices: go away to a university to hone their skills, or be magically bound and cut off from their abilities.  
After a shuffling of papers, scrambling to find Cecilia’s records, the human council member spoke up.

“Cecelia Silva. Your case was closed three years ago. We concluded that you possess no magical talent and do not pose a threat to society.”

“Yes, your honor, but at my request, I ask that you reconsider.”

“And why should we do that?”

The condescension in the council member’s voice made Cecilia uncomfortable. She shifted the weight on her feet nervously. 

“I have been having very troubling dreams.” 

The council stifled a laugh. Strange dreams were hardly a reason to waste their time! All members looked at Cecilia in annoyance. All members except for the dwarf. He leaned forward. 

“Describe these dreams,” he prompted.

“Where to begin, your honors?” Cecilia paused. “I find myself in a strange world. It appears much like our own, but the colors are so dark and muted. There are no people in this world, only these formless...spirits? I think? Some of them are formless, others take the shape of crows, wolves, or snakes. They are the brightest things. It is like they are composed of brilliant light, and their hues of green,purple, and pink swirl around me. They whisper to me things I can almost make out, but just when I feel I am about to understand them, I wake.” 

This time the council did not stifle their laughter. 

“What a vivid imagination you have, my dear,” one said. 

“You are entertaining, I will give you that,” said another.

“Please,” Cecilia pleaded. “I have the same dream every night. It has been nigh a year and still they haunt me. Surely, that has to mean something.” 

The council exchanged glances. 

“And you have had no other signs of magic prior to this?” The dwarf asked. “No setting things on fire, bringing dead plants to bloom, changing people’s minds?” 

Cecilia shook her head. As a human, she would have been expected to wield elemental magic. The Tarandrus she lived with wielded all kinds of organic magic, and could command forest nymphs or set previously dead matter abloom. While it would be most likely for Cecilia to show signs of magic indicative of humans, it was not unheard of for persons to exhibit signs of magic more closely related to the creatures someone spent most of their time around. The correlation of nature versus nurture in developing magical aptitudes was a subject matter long debated but scarcely understood. Even still, these dreams were not signs belonging to humans or Tarandrus. 

“The council needs to speak in private. Leave this room and we shall tell you when you can return for judgement,” the human council member ordered. 

Cecelia bowed, leaving the room. As soon as she was out of earshot, the dwarf turned to the other members. 

“I think we all know what kind of magic this sounds like.” 

“Dream magic? Preposterous! There has not been a wielder of that in decades! Besides, the girl is clearly human.” 

“Is it so outlandish to think that the human is perhaps not fullblood?” 

“How many dwarves do you know around these lands? They are mostly all vanished.”

“You heard her. She does not know her parentage.”

The council considered the dwarf’s words. 

“Even if you were correct, who could train her? The universities do not teach dream magic. We do not know where the teachers of that magic went. Tracking them down would prove a waste of time and resources,” the human said.

“I agree,” said the elf. “Any efforts to find the clan of dwarves have been in vain.”

“But you should know how useful dream magic is!” The dwarf protested. 

“Yes, but you should know how dangerous dream magic is,” the Accipiter interjected. 

The dwarf rolled his eyes in annoyance. “It was only a few murders...:” He said under his breath. 

“It should not have happened in the first place, dwarf.” 

“Yes, well, you people drove them into hiding anyway.”

“Enough!” The Tarandrus shouted, silencing the others with piercing blue eyes. “We need to make a decision now. I personally say we bind this human and be done with it.” 

The human and elf nodded in agreement. 

“So we just bind her and make her believe she is incredibly unordinary? We are all okay with losing the only connection we have to a whole missing people? My people?” The dwarf was exasperated, insulted that his fellow council members would be so quick to shirk responsibility. 

“Not necessarily,” the Accipiter started. “Perhaps we bind her, and if we find any solid leads on the whereabouts of the lost clan, we can unbind her. Is that compromise satisfactory?” 

No, the dwarf wanted to say. But he was outnumbered, and he always had been in the council anyways. He threw his hands up. “Fine.” 

Cecelia was brought back into the room. 

“The council has decided that your dreams are no indication of magical ability and are instead nothing more than a strange malfunction. We shall bind you such that these dreams will haunt you no longer and you may return to your life as it was before.” 

Cecelia was deeply wounded by the words the council member spoke. All her life she had seen the creatures around her cast magic that both aided and astounded her. She could hunt with the Tarandrus, eat with the Tarandrus, laugh and cry with the Tarandrus, but at the end of the day, she was not one of them. Although they treated her as if she were, Cecelia kept feeling more and more out of place. Without the possibility of magic drawing her nearer to her adoptive family, Cecelia felt her hope dwindle. 

But Cecilia knew the cost of noncompliance. There were those who refused to go to a university for proper training and refused to be bound. The Accipiter, capable of mind control and other kinds of mental torture, would beat an unwilling subject into submission. Though many of these people have been seen returning to their lives with physical marks of their rebellion, their mental scars were often much worse. Even still, being bound did not have to be the end. Those who were bound and desired to be free to use and learn magic would flee into the wilds, where it is said there was a community containing a few ex-mandatore who knew how to break the magical binding. 

Not desiring to be mentally tortured, Cecilia nodded in submission.

An Accipiter was summoned and led Cecilia to an adjacent room where two others stood on either side of a crude medical table. Anxiety immediately gripped her, and she tensed up in response to the sight. 

“Are you going to resist us? It is best to tell us now to save you any unnecessary harm,” one of the Accipter noted. 

Cecilia shook her head. “No, sir. I know this is to my and society’s benefit,” she recited the mandatore propaganda that was spewed in public demonstrations.

“Good,” the Accipiter gestured to the table. “This should not take long.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Cecilia left the mandatore courthouse and met a Tarandrus who was waiting for her outside. 

“What is the word, sister?” 

Cecilia lifted her left leg slightly. The magically bound anklet jingled.

“Oh,” the Taraundrus said softly.

He approached Cecilia and put his hand on her shoulder. Tarandrus towered high above the other races of Saturus, with their torsos of humans and bodies of elks. Magnificent horns adorned their foreheads, as well as soft brown ears that fluttered with emotion. 

“They said my dreams were some kind of ‘magical malfunction’ and that I would not be troubled any longer by them. So...I suppose that is good.”

“I do know how you missed early morning hunts with yours truly.” 

Cecilia smiled. “Yes, and I suppose I can finally wear shoes now. As a matter of fact, can we go look for some before we return?”

It was not very often at all Cecilia found herself in the capital city. For the most part, her community was self-sustaining. 

“Yes, I do not mind,” her brother said, gesturing towards the marketplace. 

As they strolled among the beautifully-stocked tables, some of the merchants called out to them. 

“Maximus, darling, I simply must show you something.” 

Max ignored the merchant and kept walking. “I am not falling for that again,” he said under his breath. 

Cecilia giggled. Many in the marketplace found her brother attractive, and on the rare occasion, he did indulge his onlookers. But today Max did not wish to detract attention from his sister. Despite his arrogant and aloof nature, he did truly care for her, and could tell that being bound brought sadness to her heart. In times like these, he wanted to help her, but was convinced nothing he could say would.   
Cecilia stopped at her favorite merchant, the fletcher. 

“Anything new in stock?”

“Cecilia! Maximus! Welcome back! I have not seen you two here in quite a while.” 

“We were just in town for a council hearing,” Cecilia explained. 

“Oh, Max, what did you do?” 

Max rolled his eyes. “What they do not know will not hurt them.”

“It was for me. I thought I finally had magic but I suppose not.” She gestured to her foot.

“Ah,” the fletcher said quietly. “You are still you. And you have aim and precision that would put the greatest champions to shame.” 

That made Cecilia smile. “Flatterer. So, what do you have?” 

“Nothing you do not already have at home,” Max interjected. “Didn’t we come here for shoes?” 

Cecila sighed. “Yes...thank you, fletcher. Be well.”

“Be well,” the fletcher replied. 

Cecilia continued down towards the cobbler merchant, but a street beggar grabbed her robes as she walked past. 

“Please, spare some denarii?” The beggar asked. 

Cecilia stopped in her tracks. She had not even seen the beggar as she walked past. It shamed her, and she began to reach into her satchel. 

Max reached down to stop her. “How do you know this urchin will not use your money for something unneeded? Like recreational drugs or a brothel?” 

Cecilia looked up at her brother in disgust. “Who am I to deny this person help?” 

Max huffed in annoyance. The Tarandrus were not a cruel people, but they honored familial bond above all, and helping anyone outside of their circle was perplexing to most. “Fine, it is your money. But I do not expect you to be able to buy shoes afterwards.” 

“It is no matter,” Cecilia squatted on the ground to be eye-level to the beggar. “Here,” she said, handing the stranger a small coin purse. 

“Bless you,” said the stranger, reaching out to clasp her hands in Cecilia’s.

“Come, now,” Max commanded. “We have delayed too long.” 

Cecilia obeyed and rose. They were almost outside the city walls when Max stopped abruptly and stared at the sky. Cecilia followed suit, and to her confusion, the sky began to turn an alarming shade of green. The clouds began to swirl in a menacing vortex. 

Max’s face paled almost immediately. “Get on my back.” 

“What is happening…?” Cecilia marveled, clearly not as frightened as her brother. 

“I said. Get. On. My. Back.” 

Shooting Max a furrowed brow, she clambered onto his elk-like body. Without hesitation, he began to sprint out of the capital limits. As she held on tightly, she could not help but fear for the residents within the walls. 

When they arrived, the small clan of Tarandrus was in panic. Fathers paced, hunters twitched whilst watching the skies, worry hung thick in the air like a smog. Cecilia and Max’s mother, Vita, came running towards them. 

“Oh, my sweet darlings, I was so worried,” she doted, hugging Max and pressing her forehead to his in a sign of greeting. 

“We were nearly outside of the city when we saw. Max thought quickly and we ran,” Cecilia explained. 

“There is some dark magic at work in the air,” Vita said gravely. “No one is to leave the forest until the skies are clear.”

Cecilia slid off and scurried to her mother, burying her head in her robes like a child.  
“What did the council say?”

“They said it was nothing more than a magical error that I am having these dreams. They bound me so that they no longer haunt me.” 

Vita brushed Cecilia’s hair behind her ears, comforting her. She beckoned Max, and the three engaged in a warm hug. 

“What matters the most is that we are together.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, I have another chapter for you. I really hope to not rely so heavily on dialogue as the book goes on, as I really enjoy showing and not so much telling. But when you have a main character that has no idea what on earth is going on, she is going to ask a lot of questions or have a lot of things explained to her. Let me know what you think! Hope y'all are staying healthy.

The sight of Atticus’s still body on the palace floor elicited a scream from Laurentia. She fled to his side, sliding her knees on the ground as she grabbed his face. She inspected his neck in search of a pulse. Still alive, she thought. She glanced upwards and met the eyes of many of her soldiers, now her subjects, and winced. Laurentia could not tell if they were more concerned for her husband’s well-being or her show of weakness by throwing herself at his body. Straightening up, she turned to the elf who had alerted her in the dungeon. 

“Do we know what happened here?”

"The elf hugged herself nervously. “I-I do not…”

“Did anyone see what happened? Surely there was one fool who was paying attention!” Laurentia raised her voice, causing the others to shrink back in fear. 

One of the mages stepped forward awkwardly. “He just...fell, my queen. He was freeing the kitchen staff, and stopped suddenly. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he just dropped to the ground.” 

“And no one caught him?” 

“No, your highness, we--” 

“Enough,” Laurentia hissed, turning her attention back on her lover.

Laurentia gently opened Atticus’s eyes to check for any signs of bleeding. To add to her confusion, his eyes appeared to be glowing with a soft purple hue. This was not an ordinary sickness. Not wanting to jump to conclusions too quickly, Laurentia pointed to the mage from before. 

“Get our mandatore contact. It is unsafe for me to leave the grounds now,” she urged. 

Laurentia sat nervously on the palace floor for what seemed like hours. What had been such a great triumph to Laurentia had quickly turned sour. Instead of sitting on the throne planning her next move, her head was spinning out on a cold, hard floor. She could not help but feel as if she were back to where she started, all those years ago, a helpless palace slave. She tried to push those memories out of her mind, but they persisted. 

“Laurentia,” a voice called. 

“Ana,” the broken queen spun around at the sound.

The elven mandatore council member bowed as she stepped towards her. Laurentia gestured towards Atticus, and Ana bent down and examined his eyes. Gravely, Ana gave a small nod that struck fear into Laurentia’s heart. Atticus had been struck with the nox sickness. This was not something that even the greatest of the elven healers could fix, for this was an affliction caused by spirits in the dream realm. 

“This is not a death sentence, Laurentia,” Ana said softly. 

“How! Where are we going to find someone who can fix this?!”

“There was someone at the council earlier. Our dwarven member recognized it immediately.”

“And?”

“...we bound her.” 

“That is just wonderful. Where is she now? Does she live in the capital?”

“She lives with the Tarandrus. Her name is...Cecelia I believe.”

“Is she a Tarandrus?” The thought of a Tarandrus with dream magic capabilities was extremely fascinating. 

Ana shook her head. “Human. Well, the best we could tell. She does not know who her parents are. She claims she was raised by the Tarandrus and lives among them.”

A familiar feeling about that situation struck Laurentia. She lingered on it, then, unable to recall it clearly, shoved it aside. She beckoned a few nearby elves to her side. 

“Do you know the place of which she speaks?” Laurentia asked them. 

They nodded, and a hushed order was given to retrieve this lead. Laurentia was doubtful, but she stood to lose quite a bit if she did not pursue every lead available to her. She commanded her search party to leave, and they set off quickly. As soon as their audience parted, Ana turned to Laurentia. 

“Laurentia...do you know what you have done?” Ana’s voice was concerned but hinted at disgust. 

With a smirk, Laurentia replied, “I took matters into my own hands.” 

The council member was not amused. “I agreed to be your contact inside the council because you were disconnected from the capital, not your traitorous spy.”

“You were quick to give up information about that girl,” Laurentia pointed out. 

“That is the only way I wish to help you with this. Do you even have a plan? The people are terrified and the mandatore would never accept the leadership of…” Ana trailed off.

“Of which? A plague mage or an elf?” Laurentia asked calmly.

Ana did not answer. She did not wish to insult Laurentia, but she did wish to know if she had a plan. The city, maybe even Saturus herself, was changed greatly. 

“If you wish for this to be more than just a rebellion that dies as quickly as it was born, I hope you know what you are doing,” Ana said finally. 

“You must think little of me to think that I did not have a plan. What do the people want? Change. What do the mandatore want? Order. And so I shall give it to them.”

Ana crossed her arms, doubtful. “Those seem like contradicting ideals.” After a long pause, she added, “I wish you luck. I shall not help you further. I must return to the council-- I have already tarried too long.” 

“When will you choose between your pride and your people?” Laurentia stared deep into Ana’s eyes. “They should be one and the same, but for you they are not.” 

Ana, refusing to argue with her, turned to storm out of the throne room. “Take care, sister.”  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Cecelia awoke to the pungent smell of blood. Immediately panicked, she threw open her eyes and began searching her body for signs of trauma. Finding none, she scanned the room to discover herself in a small jail cell. The only light source was an inadequate skylight positioned over an adjacent cell, so she was unsure if she was alone. Curious, she called out. 

“Hello?”

No answer. But from her many years of hunting, Cecelia recognized the scents of both fresh and old blood. Both filled the room in a nauseating partnership. There had to be someone else in the other cell. She attempted to rise to her feet, but the chains on her hands and feet proved formidable opponents in her fight to do so. She craned her neck and strained her eyes until she made out a hunched silhouette.

“Are you alive?” She shuffled closer to the bars between them. 

“...yes,” was the weak reply. 

“Come into the light so that I may see you.”

The figure slumped towards the dim rays of sunlight. Bright yellow eyes greeted Cecilia, along with the recognizable glint of blood covering the stranger’s back. 

“Who did this to you?” Cecilia cried, clenching her fists in a sudden burst of anger and concern.

The stranger attempted a weak smile, (as much as a humanoid with the head of a hawk can smile) and assured, “do not worry, human. Those who did this to me already paid.” He swiveled his back to reveal the extent of his wounds.

Cecilia gasped as she realized that the stranger’s wings had been cut off. Who could do such a wretched thing? “But...who?”

“He who once sat on the throne.”

More questions than she had before flooded her mind. “What do you mean ‘once’?”

“Do you not know? The king has been overthrown and his title usurped.”

Cecilia began to feel light-headed. These were not events to speak about so casually, and yet, her companion seemed perfectly calm.

“By an elf,” the stranger added. 

An elf? The elves of Saturus were peaceful. For the most part, the elves and Tarandrus who lived outside of the capital did not meddle in the affairs of those living inside the city walls. What could an elf stand to gain by usurping the throne? Even more confusing still, why would the usurper let this prisoner bleed out? Cecilia could not decide which brought her more sadness, the fact that someone deemed this creature worthy of disfigurement, or the fact that another someone deemed this creature worthy of bleeding out.

“I wish I could help you!” Cecelia cried.

The stranger managed another weak smile. “You do not even know what I have done. How could you want to help me?”

“There is no crueler fate than bleeding out,” Cecelia said. As a hunter, she was taught to never leave an animal to bleed out.

The stranger’s dim yellow eyes flashed with warmth for a split-second.“You may call me Adrian, since you have shown me compassion.”

Cecilia felt honored to know the Accipiter’s name. The Accipiter abode by a strict code of conduct that even its criminals respected to a degree. One of the code’s main tenets was secrecy, so whether Adrian’s willingness to answer questions was a testament to his desperation or respect for Cecelia was anyone’s guess. 

“I am Cecilia. It is nice to meet you, Adrian.” 

“I feel the same, though I am sorry it is under these circumstances.”

“ Could you tell me what you know of this usurper? What does he want? Is the king alive?”

“I do not know what she wants,” he corrected. “But the king had committed many injustices in his reign...perhaps she wants reparations.”

“Well… if your crime was against the king and she now ‘rules’, why keep you locked up?”

“She does not know what I have done, and if I pose a threat to her.”

“Well,” she started cautiously, “do you?”

His eyes flashed with bitterness before softly replying, “no. My quarrel was with the king and the king alone. She has not wronged me.”

Cecilia opened her mouth to argue, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and the fiery glow of a torch. Two elven guards appeared before Cecelia’s cell. Wordlessly, they opened it and began roughly pulling her to her feet. She squirmed and fought, wildly protesting their sudden interruption. Her shackles clattered as they pulled her up into the light of the palace.

“I’ll come back for you!” She called to Adrian, who shook his head in the darkness as he watched her being dragged away. 

The elves hastily dropped Cecelia on the stone floor of the palace’s throne room. She quickly looked around, trying to assess her environment. The air stunk of disease, and blood seeped into the stone in many places. A great battle had taken place there, Cecelia concluded. The human banners that had at one time hung proudly from the walls were now torn down and hastily replaced with elven ones. The lupine iconography seemed to stare down at Cecelia menacingly.

“I am so sorry to have brought you in like this,” a voice called. “But the one you call ‘mother’ did not want to let you go.”

Cecilia threw her gaze in the direction of the voice, and found an elven woman sitting on the throne. She had dark skin, rich brown eyes, and shiny black hair that hung on her shoulders like a trophy. 

“Did you hurt them?” Cecelia demanded, snarling. 

“No, of course I did not hurt them. But I do not take kindly to people withholding something I need.”

“I do not even know who you are.” 

“I am Laurentia. Queen Laurentia, to you.”

“Queen? I didn’t vote for you.” 

“You don’t vote for queens,” Laurentia said flatly. “You are here because you can do something that I cannot.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You have been having strange dreams, have you not?”

Cecelia paused. How could she know about the dreams? “Truthfully, not since I have been bound. But, yes, I did have strange dreams. How did you--” 

“You have a magical ability that is the rarest kind in these lands. And I need you to use them to help me.” 

Cecelia shook her head, more confused than ever. “Even if I knew what you are talking about, I am bound!” She lifted her left leg to show the magically-bound anklet.

“I know some people who can easily get rid of that part of the problem.” 

“Even still, I do not understand you.”

Laurentia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “The mandatore lied to you. You do have abilities. They were just too cowardly to lead you in the right direction.”

Cecilia felt anger bubble up inside her. This institute she had put faith in all her life cut corners? They had made Cecilia out to feel as if she were broken, a malfunctioning madwoman. But even so, how did Laurentia know all of this about the situation? 

“We have spies all over the city, my dear,” Laurentia added, as if hearing Cecelia’s thoughts.

Cecilia thought carefully before asking, “what is this power I possess?” 

“Perhaps it would be better to show you.”

Laurentia gestured to the elves who stood on either side of her throne. They approached Cecelia and effortlessly unlocked the shackles on her hands. As they went to unlock the ones on her feet, Laurentia put out a hand. “No, leave those. We do not want her to run away.” 

Laurentia stood up from her stolen throne and began to lead Cecelia into another room, the two elves in tow. They entered into a room that must have, at one point, been the king’s advisor’s chambers. It appeared to be absolutely ransacked, save the bed, which sat regal and untouched. As Cecelia approached, she saw an elven man laid among the satin sheets. Was he sleeping? Was he sick?

“Do you know about the dream realm, Cecelia?” Laurentia asked. 

Cecelia shook her head. 

“RIght alongside this realm, the one in which you and I live, is another one. It is present at all times, but most of us cannot see or touch it. I have read that it is exactly like ours, but instead of living residents, it is filled with spirits.” 

“Do they take the shape of crows, wolves, or snakes?” 

“Yes,” Laurentia replied, surprised. “Sometimes, these spirits can interact with the thin, imaginary line between our world and theirs and take hold of a living person.” Laurentia took a deep breath. “Here is a person they took a hold of.” 

Cecilia approached the bed and saw the man appeared to be no more than sleeping. There were no signs of injury in his appearance, but something was clearly wrong as he did not stir. In fact, to the unobservant, it would not appear as if the man were even breathing. His chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly, and the sight was frightening to Cecilia. 

“Where do I come in?” She asked.

“The kind of magic you have allows you to cross into that unseen world. You can break the hold this spirit has on him.”

Cecilia considered carefully her attitude towards all of this. On one hand, she wished to help this poor man. Laurentia clearly cared for him and went to great lengths to seek help for him. Cecelia’s heart longed to do good. But on the other hand, why help the usurper at all? It was clear she had killed many to achieve her goals, and her destruction was something Cecelia wanted no part of. 

“Where is the king?” Cecelia asked suddenly. 

“He is under lock and key. Worry not about him, especially when your queen stands before you.” Laurentia boasted, crossing her arms and glaring apathetically at Cecelia.   
Cecelia thought it was weird that she did not see him in the cells down below. The cells! 

“If I am to help you,” she started, “I reserve the right to make a few demands.” 

Laurentia’s eyes narrowed. Laurentia could have used many means to get Ceclia to submit, but in doing so she would lose any chance of trust being built. She would have to go along with the girl’s silly games, at least for now. 

“Fine. I grant you three demands.” 

The corners of Cecilia’s mouth flew upwards. “First, I want you to heal that Accipiter in the cells,” she began. 

“See to it that the Accipiter is healed. When it is done, bring him to the throne room to show my good faith,” Laurentia said to the two elves from before, who then left the three alone in the room. 

“Who is this man to you, anyways?” Cecelia asked. 

“He is my husband, and I love him dearly,” Laurentia replied plainly, seeing no reason to conceal the truth from the girl. 

Laurentia’s eyes looked as if they would sink into her skull and disappear, and Cecelia felt a twinge of pity for the elf. 

“I am sorry,” she said softly. 

Laurentia looked at her in surprise. Rarely had she experienced pity from a human, and even then, it was the type of pity that gave an air of unintentional prejudice. This time, it felt different to her. Cecelia did not think less of Laurentia for her grief, and that idea settled strangely in her heart. She offered her a smile and gestured to her to return to the throne room. Being in the room with Atticus for too long was nearly unbearable. 

The two returned to the throne room to see a freshly-healed Adrian. His eyes lit up when he saw Cecelia, but only momentarily, as they dimmed once more when he saw Laurentia. 

“I trust our prisoner fares well once more?” Laurentia asked, returning to her throne.

“Perhaps too well, your highness. He will not stop talking about his code and how he must repay his debt,” one of the elves explained. 

“You will have a few ways to serve me, I am sure,” Laurentia said, a small trace of a smirk on her face. 

“Not to you,” the elf corrected. “To her.” He pointed at Cecelia, who instantly blushed. 

“I am the one who ordered your healing, Accipiter,” Laurentia snapped. 

“Without her asking you to do so, it never would have happened. She has shown me a kindness no one here has,” Adrian kept his eyes steady on Laurentia.

Choosing to ignore his disrespect, Laurentia asked, “and what would your code have you do for her?” 

“Be her guard. Protect her until a time when I can fully repay my debt.”

Laurentia considered his words. “I suppose we will need an extra protector where we must go.” 

“Which is?” Cecelia interjected. 

“We need to go find the fugitivus. They know how to unbind you and perhaps they know where the missing colony of dwarves is. They are the ones who can teach you to use your power. Then, we must return here in once piece so that you may save my Atticus.” Laurentia picked at her nails absentmindedly as she explained. 

“And what of your throne? Surely, the capital will descend into even more chaos as they wait for their benevolent leader to return?” Acrid sarcasm filled Adrian’s words. 

“My people will have their instructions on how to keep the palace untouched. When we return I will begin my true reform. No need to meddle so, Accipiter.”

“If we are to go on a journey,” Cecelia said, “I ask that we bring my brother. I mean no offense in saying I trust neither of you, but I need someone I do with me.”

Laurentia put her fingers to her lips in contemplation. Would that be wise? If they had to steal Cecelia from her home in the first place, what makes her think she can return peacefully and take another member from the group? “I agree to this term. But we must wait on the outskirts of your little settlement as you recruit your brother. They will not take kindly to us.” 

Cecelia nodded in agreement, though she was unsure if her brother would want to join in on such a haphazard mission. 

“We set off in the early morning,” Laurentia concluded. “Return the Accipiter to his cell for the night, and show the human a guest room. Guard both places thoroughly.”


End file.
